That Was Ridiculous
by salsadip
Summary: Surely, Mrs Hudson's niece moving in downstairs won't affect Sherlock, but will her past catch up with her?  Sherlock and a new character of my own creation!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! ****This is my first fanfic! (I hope you can't tell ;) ) I decided to add a new character in the mix just for Sherlock, so I apologize if I switch the focus to much! Also apologies for any errors! I'm finding the Chapters a bit hard to sort out at the moment, so please bear with me! Hope you enjoy it ;)**

* * *

><p>"That was ridiculous,"<p>

Sherlock's only reaction to this was his sneaky smirk, something reserved only for John. They had just piled in through the door, hanging up wet coats as they did so, before climbing up the stairs only to meet quite a flustered Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh your back...oh well... you see dears...my niece is...umm...well" she stuttered not getting the words out, the two men drove her back up the stairs and into the living room of 221B.

"Is that...Is that the shower going?" a quizzical John asked, he glanced round to the bathroom.

"Of course," said Sherlock looking directly at Mrs Hudson, who proceeded to blush, "And I think that Mrs. Hudson here was about to tell us that her niece is in it."

"What?" John quickly swung his head back round, with a face that made Sherlock smirk again.

"Well, mine is broken and she's travelled all the way up from-"

A bang echoed from the bathroom and the shower promptly turned off.

"Auntie? Ow, oh crap, I just grabbed this towel," A figure emerged from the bathroom, head bowed so she couldn't see the party awaiting her arrival, fumbling with hair pins to let down her long hair.

"I mean, are you sure they...?" the end trailed off as she looked up. She was tall – not quite as tall as Sherlock – and thin – thinner than him definitely, something that John had not thought possible and her twisting brown curls contrasted with her pale skin. She was wrapped in a worn green towel and wore a slightly bemused expression, mouth slightly open.

"Sherlock, John, this is my niece-"

"Kate, well Catherine," she smiled and stepped forward, holding up the top of her towel she stuck out her hand,

"John? And...? Sorry?"

"Sherlock"

"Oh yes, sorry" she shook his hand too slightly bobbing, then stepped back curling her bare feet into the carpet.

It was the first time someone had gone to John first over Sherlock; much less remember him more, this startled both men, Sherlock's porcelain face twisted then returned to its original intrigue.

"Well, I'll just-" she gestured to the bathroom, still not looking away from Sherlock.

"Of course," Sherlock nodded.

She backed in, grabbed her clothes, carefully disguising any showing underwear and walked out to join her aunt at the door, they both turned to leave.

"Oh, and thank you!" she called, bobbing again then followed Mrs. Hudson down the stairs.

"Well dear, that could have-"

"Why the _hell _did I curtsey?"

* * *

><p>Of course there had been the first incident of the meeting of the head. It was a few days after the initial meeting – a strategy to lay low for a while.<p>

"Need to use the shower?" was Sherlock's way of announcing her presence. It was met with a nervous laugh.

"No, some milk actually, Mrs. Hudson is not used to having someone else in the flat, especially someone who bakes a load of cakes and the like." She smiled.

"Surprises me, the shower, it has been 2 days now."

Kate grabbed her t-shirt,

"Do I...O, wait is this that thing, that thing you do?"

"That thing? In this case it is one of the simplest steps of logic I could make..."

By this time she had gone into the kitchen with a nod from John. She picked up a plastic container of the counter top and moved to the fridge.

"...the cakes, now that isn't a surprise, simply because..."

"AHHH!" followed by a clatter.

Sherlock actually jumped up and went over to a startled Kate. The container was on the floor and she had stepped back leaning on the table hand over mouth.

"The head?" John asked, a hint of amusement in his voice, but he was much more focused on Sherlock's actions. Sherlock, himself, opened the fridge and took out the milk. Kate's eye never moved off him once. He bent down for the plastic container and handed them both to her. She took them her hand brushing his. Sherlock looked at her momentarily then broke away and moved out of the kitchen. Kate followed him out and went to the door slightly shell-shocked.

"A cup of tea normally helps," said a helpful John in the corner. She turned and a short, sharp laugh escaped her.

"So, anyone important?" she giggled.

"It's an experiment." exhaled Sherlock,

"Oh, of course how stupid of me, is this milk drinkable?" Kate was still giggling.

Sherlock shook his head, but smiled when John joined in her laughter.

"Be sure to bring us up some cookies!"

"Cakes John, and why else do you think she took the container?"

Kate left with one last giggle.

* * *

><p>They bumped into each other the stairs smiling, Sherlock actually moved, she came to borrow more milk and as yet had not had the `full Sherlock-treatment`. He actually smiled with true warmth, it was clear to John that the first meeting and the one that followed had definitely entertained him. The first case was solved with considerable ease, so Kate became a regular visitor. It was obvious that she much preferred the two men's company over her aunt, who fussed too much for nearly everyone's liking and so much so that it seemed these two became her relief from the real world. She was quite willing to make them cups of tea and had even offered to clean; it was seen as an effort to get rid of that guilty and embarrassed feeling of using a stranger's shower. Though it was obvious to John that it wasn't just these domestic offers that allowed Kate to sing in the kitchen, even when Sherlock was working, or to laugh or engage in `idle prattle`.<p>

She was interested mostly in their adventures, as she called them. She sat cross-legged at the end of the sofa, mug of tea in hand listening intently; the comfiest Sherlock had seen anyone around him, except maybe John. She seemed as equally fascinated as John by Sherlock's `gifts` and would often ask him to go into greater detail, much to John's surprise he would. From this they led on to how Sherlock and John met. Sherlock described John to her as he had seen that first day at Barts.

"Well then Kate, what about you? Any `adventures`?" asked John,

"Do you really need to ask me?" she replied, staring fixedly at Sherlock.

"I really don't think that's a-"

Sherlock had already scooted along the sofa to be within inches of Kate's face, their knees touching. It was evident she was trying desperately not to laugh.

"You've come here to get away, Mrs. Hudson is really your Great-Aunt so you haven't regularly visited . Bad break up? Yes or maybe...pressure from mother? High expectations of you, needed a change, but not quite adjusting here yet. Missing home and someone you left behind. Your feeling guilty. Aspiring writer or just undecided, more so the latter. Not what your parents wanted or expected. Now this break-up-"

"Kate?"

John looked up to see Mrs Hudson in the doorway,

"Kate, it's your mother."

Kate didn't move.

"She wants to talk to you."

Neither did Sherlock.

"Kate?"

"I don't want to." She remained motionless.

"You will have to at some point. Kate?" Mrs Hudson sighed, giving up on her lost cause and creaked down the stairs. Kate rose to follow. She wrapped her overly-large knitted cardigan around her.

"Well done," she whispered and silently left without her usual smile.

For all the times John had seen Sherlock give people lists of what was wrong with them and their lives, he had never been like this. He wrung his hands, knowing what he had rekindled and brought to the surface. It was like he was stuck on a case, just one little snag he got caught on. Trying to deduce more about the woman? Or was it him struggling with his own feelings? John wondered. Although the case had been `easy` Sherlock had definitely been distracted towards the end, and for once he stared back into those eyes staring at him instead of ignoring them with ease. John chuckled. What a couple they would make.

* * *

><p>Sherlock grabbed her hand and pulled her close. He stroked her cheek, stared into her eyes. He lent forward...BANG!<p>

Kate woke with a start. Still slightly confused from her dream she reached for her cardigan hanging over the chair. She flicked on the light as she went into the kitchen, wincing as the light hit her eyes, and as she saw the clock on the wall. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, head in hands trying to figure out that reoccurring dream. She had initially been startled by Sherlock's perfectly defined features, but had naturally been attracted to him. Kate sighed. She was all muddled. Of course, she didn't like him in _that_ way, she had just got out of a serious relationship it was just a passing fancy, a distraction. Besides, a man like him probably had some girl being strung along somewhere.

Another shuffle and clang echoed out from the hall. Maybe that bang wasn't just in her dream? Kate gingerly moved to the door, opened it slightly on to find a very out of breath Sherlock and John.

"Evening,"

This simple comment was too much for her to bear.

"Do have any idea what time it is?"

"2ish maybe"

"What the hell are you? Midnight rovers?"

"My dear, maybe you should go back to bed? Sorry for our loud entrance." This calming comment from Sherlock hit Kate. She realized that standing in a doorway in an overly large knitted cardigan, snoopy pyjamas and throwing a tantrum in front of the man who had (in your dreams) been passionately kissing you was not the sexiest thing to do. But then why did she care about being sexy?

Both men had turned up the stairs, obviously expecting her to follow. She groaned. Even she knew she would go. She returned inside grabbed her coffee, slipped on some bed socks and sorted out her bed hair. Well, just in case.

"So where have the dirty little stop-outs been tonight? Hell, I feel like your mother!" she laughed – well as much as you can at half past two in the morning.

"Oh, I hope not." passed Sherlock.

Kate stopped laughing and looked at him. Did that have some double meaning? Even John turned to look at him, but Sherlock oblivious to everyone tapped away on his Blackberry.

"Where did you come from?" a straight question from him moved on the freeze-frame.

"Well, it was-" was given a confused answer.

"Cornwall, no?"

"Yes, but it was-"

"And this relationship? What can you tell me about that?"

"Well, y'know, I don't really want to talk about it and why does-"

"I don't see what's wrong?"

"Sherlock."

"What John? I only need to know in what the relationship ended. Over what causes."

"But Sherlock-"

"I'm going back to bed." Announced Kate and left as quickly as she could. Her dreams of Sherlock Holmes were sure to become very different now.

"Well done."

"What? What did I do wrong?"

"Just because you don't feel emotional attachment other humans do."

"Are you insinuating that I am not human John?"

"On the emotional front probably not."

Again this made Sherlock smirk, but he himself was feeling uncomfortable. He really didn't mean to keep doing this, well maybe he did but not to Kate. He did enjoy her company and her take on things had aided him in several ways. And although, he would not admit it to himself he did find her attractive. The English rose effect had taken over him, or maybe it was just the likenesses to him. It was probably just because he had no interesting cases on at the moment. Well actually this new one Lestrade had shown them early on had originally proved a simple open-and-shut case – a simple domestic – but now beneath the surface Sherlock felt there was more, prompted by Kate's situation. Besides, he thought, all of this is just eating away at his brain. Still it wouldn't hurt to make amends, if had somehow offended her, and this way it would be easier to get any information out of her. Dinner perhaps? Surprise work visit? Would that suggest something else? As always in emotional matters he turned to John.

"Should I take her out to dinner?"

"Who?"

"Kate of course, really John!"

"Well...I suppose, if you wanted-"

"I could surprise her at work."

"Yes, I'm sure she'd like that very much." Replied John, struggling to stifle a chuckle, he had never thought he had such a good sense of deduction.

"Well then, it's settled," Sherlock said dismissively, "Goodnight John."  
>"You're going to bed?"<p>

"Of course not, but you are, judging by the look of you."


	2. Chapter 2

Kate had, after feeling guilty from sponging of her aunt, taken a job as a waitress at a cafe just round the corner. It wasn't a particularly well known place, but at certain times she never got a chance to sit down. She did everything, took orders for take-aways, served and wiped tables, cleaned the counter tops, helped in the kitchen. It was something every waitress probably does, she thought, but she was not used to it, panicking whenever she had to carry a tray anywhere. The mish-mash hours were made bearable by another waitress, Becky. Kate barely knew anything about her, but her blunt observations, directions and the hilarious game of flirting with the customers were what caused her to keep coming back.

"Ooft, ooft, ooft, tall fittie entering," Becky whispered on passing Kate, who was stood by the till. Kate grinned and looked towards the door. Suddenly she jumped down under the counter, sliding her back down the side.

"What the hell are you doing?" hissed Becky.

"He lives above me!" Kate hissed back.

Becky whistled softly, "Tough luck sunshine, he's gone into your section, I would cover but I've already two tables waiting. Go on." She moved off.

Kate sighed, recomposed herself, then tried delicately to stand up and walked over to Sherlock.

"Lost something?"

She choose to ignore this comment.

"Don't normally see you in here, what can I get you? Black coffee?"

"Nothing, I just came to see you."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes."

"Oh...well...you see you have to order something to sit in here, look I break in literally five minutes, I'll meet you outside then, will that be ok?"

"Perfect." He smiled, her heart did an involuntary leap, then elegantly rose and left. Kate grabbed the back of a chair.

"What _did_ you do to him?" said Becky, a little too loud for Kate's liking.

"He came to see me."

"Ker-ching" winked Becky.

* * *

><p>It was much more than five minutes later. Kate had been distracted by a spillage and an unusual rush. As her shift was coming up to an end and as her manager had noticed Sherlock hanging around she had let Kate finish early. She dashed in the loo dragging along Becky's make-up bag. She had just started to apply eye-liner when she realized that he would probably notice it and make some comment. Damn. Still, she had started now. She finished, scrunched her hair and brushed herself down before venturing outside.<p>

"I'm so sorry, there was a-"

"I know."

"Of course you do." She smiled and to her surprise he smiled back, even his eyes twinkled. Kate blushed. For some reason this made Sherlock terribly self-conscious – though I doubt he'd admit it – and he stopped smiling and tried to find the words in his head.

"Oh, umm, these are for you." He handed her a bunch of yellow flowers, clumsily picked up from a nearby florist. He had gotten the idea from a rom-com he had been forced to watch, for some reason he hadn't deleted it, but still it had come in useful.

"Oh, thank you, you really shouldn't have!" she beamed, his momentary pause had made her confidence grow and these flowers. Surely, they meant something more?

"So, do you want to get a coffee?"

"Well, if you don't mind, I'd rather not I'm kinda sick of-"

"TAXI!" As one pulled up Sherlock opened the door for her.

"Just as long as you don't know what I'm thinking all the time." Kate grinned and stepped into the cab. They sat in silence most of the way home, for some reason – maybe it was without John, things became very awkward between them. When they reached the comforting sight of 221B, they both jumped out, Sherlock even paying for the taxi. Kate fumbled around in her bag, but Sherlock whipped the keys out of his pocket and eased the door open for her.

"So, why did you really come and see me then? It can't just off to been to escort me home – which I very much appreciate by the way."

"No, well, actually it was too..." his hands reached up and fingered his dark curly hair, "to ask you to dinner." He stopped moving and held her gaze.

"Dinner, that would be, that would be lovely thank you."

"Tomorrow then?"

"Perfect." Kate beamed again, and then stepped inside Mrs. Hudson's flat. Once the door shut she let out an involuntary squeal. Sherlock didn't realise he had been holding his breath.

* * *

><p>John, he was her best bet. Kate had been up all night, which she knew would do nothing for her look tonight, but still. Once the adrenaline had worn off she had had a nagging feeling that this all was just an experiment, a game for Sherlock. I mean hadn't she already convinced herself that this was a bad idea? She had fretted about it constantly and decided to talk to John. So maybe he would lie to save his friend's skin, but it would put her mind at ease. It surprised her how much she trusted John.<p>

"John?"

"Here!" His cheery head popped round from the kitchen door.

"Hi."

"Hi." He grinned back, "Looking for your date? Bit early aren't you?" He laughed, Kate struggled to join in.

"Actually I came to talk to you." John had half been expecting this. Kate had heard from the tales how Sherlock could and would manipulate people to get information or what he wanted, so it was understandable for her to have that niggling thought.

"He's not here is he?"

"No, he's not here."

"Good, I-"

"You wanted to know if it's some kind of experiment?" finished John.

"Yes," breathed Kate, she fell heavily on the sofa, "Is that awful of me? Is that really bad?"

"No, it's not." John plonked himself next to her. "The truth is I have never seen him like this."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes, yes it is." He chuckled, "He actually moves when you come round and does things, normally that only happens when someone is bringing him a dead body to decipher."

Kate laughed.

"Am I being normal? I mean it's so fricken' weird how he, like, captivates me I suppose."

"A lot of people are like that, but they normally can't see past his annoying traits."

"God, I have been fretting constantly, but I really want...I don't know what I want. Y'know he doesn't seem-" She trailed off every time not knowing what to say.

"Stop worrying, it'll be fine. There is bound to some kind of adventure with Sherlock." He said affectionately.

"Well then, I better think of what to wear."

"I wouldn't recommend heels!" joked John, Kate laughed "I'm being serious!"

She got up and walked to the door. "Thank you John." It was said with true feeling and in reply John nodded and smiled.

* * *

><p>Oh dear god so many dresses. Dresses pulled of hangers, dresses strewn on the floor, dresses discarded on the bed. Dressing for a man who would take some meaning from everything was so hard. Kate finally decided on a black vintage dress with a flowing skirt and so she could wear her new red high heels, a red belt. John had only been joking hadn't he? Now hair...plait? All swept to one side? Oh god!<p>

* * *

><p>Sherlock himself was desperately trying to concentrate on experiment he had brought home from Barts, but his mind kept drifting. Why had he done this? It was bound to end awfully. End awfully...Yes, that murdered girl had been killed by her ex-boyfriend. But according to everyone around him he wasn't violent, what if it had been organised? A `new gang` was starting to circulate the area definitely up from Cornwall way, maybe people could...<p>

"So, all ready?" Sherlock's train of thought was broken by John.

"Mmm" Sherlock decided to stare intently and he's experiment.

"Oh, stop grinning like that, John I don't know why all this amuses you so much."

"Isn't it time you were leaving?" Despite himself John couldn't help but carry on grinning.

"What time is it?"

"7"

Sherlock grabbed his coat off the back of the door.

_Ready? Meet me in the hall – SH_

He then turned down the stairs and left. John shook his head, what on earth would happen? Sherlock did not understand the concept of dating; he chuckled as he remembered his first date with Sarah. Actually with Sherlock out of the house, it would probably be a good time to ring her.

* * *

><p>It was quite a small local restaurant that Kate was whisked off to almost as soon as she stepped out of Mrs. Hudson's making some "going out with the girls excuse".<p>

They were seated by the window, but still relatively close to the fire which gave the whole place a cosy feel. At first the conversation was slow but soon Kate was telling Sherlock all of her old life. Hurried engagement, not helped by mother and the ever-changing choice of careers.

"Why _am_ I telling you all this?"

"Because you think I already know it." Sherlock smiled, she laughed.

"Don't tell me it was my right ankle?" Kate laughed even getting a smile out of him.

"Are you ready to order?" a smarmy waiter interjected, doing a double-take at Kate.

"Oh, I haven't even..."

"I'll come back." He strutted off, still subtly staring at her.

"Watch him." It was more of a command than a suggestion; the waiter had somehow caused Sherlock to become suddenly protective of Kate, he was unused to this feeling but went with it anyway – for future reference of course.

"So what are you having?"

"I'm not eating."

"What? Then why did you bring me out to dinner?" she laughed, Sherlock shrugged.

"Well, so I don't feel bad why don't you have the duck and I'll have the chicken, so I can pick off both plates as I really cannot decide which one and I swear I am a fat girl inside! Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm rambling again!What _are_ you looking at?" Kate had her back to the window and craned to her neck to see what Sherlock was staring at behind her.

"There's a new gang outside."

"You never-well John did say-"

"What? What did he say?" Sherlock flicked his head back to her.

"Oh now Mr. Watson got your attention then didn't he?" she cheekishly grinned.

"What are you suggesting Miss? That I am gay?" Even though he said it so bluntly he was smiling now.

"Oh well we can soon find that out..." She grabbed his hand which had been casually resting on the table and started to stroke it. Sherlock looked shocked at first but restrained his face at the test. Kate started to move her hand further up his arm.

"Shit." Kate had glanced up over his shoulder. 

"What?" he turned to follow her line of vision.

"That's my ex." She whispered, dodging her head behind Sherlock, "Switch places with me."

"That will be even more obvious than you hiding attempts at the moment." He paused, "Do you want to leave?"

"Won't that be just as obvious?"

"Come on." Sherlock stood up and picked up his coat.

As they walked out Sherlock could see Kate's ex staring after them. Outside the gang ignored them, but if his theories were correct it wouldn't be for long. They started to walk out along the pavement. "Shall we wait for a taxi?"

"No, we need to keep to keep moving, they'll follow us."

"Who will?" Kate glanced behind them, "Why the hell is he-?"

"Come on." There was more urgency in his voice now, he grabbed her arm and pulled her along faster. Behind them the gang began to disband.

"Quick." He tugged her down an alley way. She decided to keep quiet, this must be the adventure. Once they were hidden from the gangs view, Sherlock broke into a run. His hand slipped down and linked with hers as she also sped up.

Raised voices and shapes burst from behind them into the alley way behind them. Sherlock led her down more little interlinking lanes, twisting off from the original one. Yet multiple sounds followed them which ever way they went until they reached a dormant road. Sherlock raced on the open ground dragging Kate off the pavement and sprinting down the road. She let out a yelp, as she went over on her ankle.

"Ow, shit." She looked behind her.

"Quick."

"I can't, these bloody shoes, Ow." She winced.

"Come down here." He guided her down an even tighter lane and pushed her up against the wall.

"What are you-?" she tried to push him away but grabbed onto his coat instead to hold herself up.

"Shh, hide your face." He said, looking out back onto the open road. Kate turned her head and buried it into Sherlock's shoulder and as he turned back round he rested his head on hers. Echoing all around them were passing pounding feet, then confused shouts seeping away into the distance.

They stood silently for a few minutes afterwards, breathing heavily. Kate was depending on Sherlock to keep her up. Their heads stayed resting on each other. Kate shivered and instinctively Sherlock moved his arms of the wall and wrapped them around her. Both parties realised what he had done and froze.

Sherlock quickly disentangled himself from her and stood away from her still breathing heavily, creating smoky patterns in the air.

"I think, I think they've gone, we should probably go." He couldn't meet her eyes, she was still leaning against the wall but he turned and carried on down the alley. When he reached the main street, he hailed a cab and opened the door as Kate hobbled out from the alley way. Once she had clambered in and Sherlock after her, she burst into a fit of laughter.

"Well, that's a new reaction."

"Better than crying!"

* * *

><p>As they came into the door for 221B Kate continued to laugh. Sherlock took of his scarf and hung it on the behind the door, he looked at her and smiled. Kate pulled a face as she yanked off her right shoe and clasped onto Sherlock for balance.<p>

"You owe me a new pair of heels young man!" she laughed, took the other shoe off then turned to find herself right in front of him, it was now Sherlock up against the wall. Without thinking Kate pulled herself up to his face and kissed him lightly on the mouth. As she pulled away she looked right in to his eyes and stepped back.

"I'm sorry, I-"she turned to go, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. He kissed her harder this time, his arms found her waist where as hers twisted round his neck. They drew back, both overcome with wild emotions and unsure what to do next.

"We should probably tell John about the gang." He turned and started to climb the stairs.

"Right...yes...ok," Kate was still in a daze but followed the sweeping black coat.

Sherlock needed to focus on the case. His mind was reeling from that kiss. What on earth had possessed him to do that? And all the other little things, this must be what `normal people` had as John would say. Still he needed to concentrate on this new development, not think of the rush when Kate had simply grabbed his hand. He would have to ignore the tightness in his chest or his work would pay, and that was all that mattered, wasn't it?

John was just clearing up the take-away that he and Sarah had eaten. She had only just left and he had enjoyed this breath of normal activity while it lasted and now as if on cue Sherlock entered 221B. Yet John could not place the look on his face, Sherlock looked...vulnerable, obviously showing his battle with emotions underneath. Sherlock saw John's face and quickly placed his unbreakable mask over his face. He was saved from questions by Kate limping in.

"What did you do?" John's question was directed at Kate, but he could not keep his eyes from trying to read Sherlock's face.

"Oh, y'know, same old, went over on my ankle whilst being chased by some gangsters!" she cheerily replied, she was trying to keep things as normal as possible, but still she couldn't look Sherlock in the eye.

"You should probably put some ice on that." John turned to go into the kitchen.

"No, its ok, I'll get it, you two, discuss." As soon as she left Sherlock started.

"It's a gang. People mention they want someone dead they do it, pays well I imagine."

"A-what?"

"The girl, John, she had just broken up with her boyfriend and left him with nothing. She was tied up for `questioning` and a bit of beating I expect then killed."

"And you got this from where?"

Sherlock nodded towards the kitchen, "We saw her ex-boyfriend."

"Oh no, you don't think-"Sherlock shook his head as Kate emerged from the kitchen.

"Well, I didn't particularly want to move the foot, I'm sure Mrs. Hudson has got some somewhere." She smiled at John then went past Sherlock who was right by the doorway.

"Well, thank you," she nodded at me, brushed his hand and a look past between them that John had no hope of reading. She turned and left. John desperately wanted to go all `school girl` and ask for details, but Sherlock pulled of his coat and slunk into his bedroom. He had enough buzzing round his brain at the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry, I forgot to mention that I do not own `Sherlock` and all rights go to their respective owners - but if you find him I'd be more than willing to look after him for you ;) On with the story...**

* * *

><p>"So did he kiss you?" Kate sighed, Becky's tireless questioning was beginning to get on her nerves, she herself couldn't place exactly what she felt for Sherlock and his every move being analysed was not what she needed right now. Especially as this was a week after, the first time she and Becky had had overlapping shifts, and she had heard nothing from Sherlock who seemed to be avoiding her.<p>

"Yes." She sighed.

"Ooo, what kind of kiss?"

"A kiss Becky, look that table's waiting for you over there." Kate nodded over in the direction.

"Alright, alright missy, but I want deets!"

"Becky I'm kinda clearing up now to go!"

"Look we'll go out later, meet at mine 8ish?"

"Fine."

Becky laughed, "I will get these details!" then she turned to attend to her neglected table.

Kate sighed and continued to wipe down the counter top. I mean it wouldn't have turned into anything really anyway, it was a stupid idea; she had got the blunt message from him. But then why had he pulled her back for such a passionate kiss?

Amidst all her thoughtful confusion, Kate had managed to walk halfway round the block wearing Becky's coat. The coats were of similar design and black, she really couldn't be bothered to go back to the cafe and face more questioning.

_Got your coat, take mine, will bring it tonight, see you then x_

Sherlock had been avoiding her. He would have said it was to lessen her chances of being murdered – being seen at a restaurant with another man probably wasn't a tick in her favour. But really he couldn't cope with these huge emotions that engulfed him whenever he saw Kate. They were so...`normal` and more than anything he couldn't place them with himself, like he could with other people. He took too long walks when he knew she was home and apart from them he became obsessed with his own hibernation. He desperately tried to throw himself in the case (quite literally John came home to find pieces of paper falling from his arms and scattered around the room,) to him the answer was obvious but Lestrade and the others could not see it and needed proof.

"So, have you spoken to Kate recently?" it wasn't the first time John had tried to drop her into their conversations and he was openly ignored. "Sherlock?"

"Surely, by avoiding her I am doing her a favour?"

"Well maybe she'd like to know that?"

"John, I don't need this now I am in the middle of..." his phone started to buzz. "Get my phone."

"Excuse me?"

"Please." Sherlock sighed.

"If it's in your bloody jacket pocket ag-"

"It's by the skull John, observe!"

"Oh, it's ringing." He held it out to Sherlock, who sighed wiped his hands and picked up.

"Sherlock Holmes."

"_Sherlock? You need to get her now. I've rung the police but please come, oh god. Please, you do this kind of thing don't you? Just...even just get here for me."_

"Where are you?" Sherlock was already putting on his coat.

"_Lombard Street. Are you coming? Please, come."_ There was urgency and an air of uncertainty in her voice which scared Sherlock but he also relished the sweet sound.

"I'm on my way." He hung up and practically sprinted down the stairs, John hurriedly shoving on his coat and running on after him.

When Sherlock and John arrived at the crime scene it was already surrounded by blue flashing lights. Sherlock ducked right under the tap completely ignoring Sgt. Donavon's shout of protest and marched right into the centre of the chaos. He glanced around, for once in his life he didn't take in his surroundings; just scanned the back of heads for the familiar tumbling curls bowling out of a messy bun.

Kate was talking to Lestrade shaking her head, fumbling her words and subtly shaking, but when she met Sherlock's eyes she never finished her sentence, just walked away from the baffled Inspector over to him.

"It's Becky, the girl, the other girl who works, worked with me. Ahh, I'm sorry, I just can't..."

"Are you alright?" Sherlock's concern was shown more through his eyes than his voice. Kate stopped dead and stared into them.

"I'm-"

"Sherlock why are you here?" Lestrade had burst into the scene.

"Kate called me." Lestrade looked at Kate, who had gone paler.

"Why?"

"I live above her."

"Sherlock..." Kate whispered.

"But why should she call you?"

"Support, she's just found her friend dead, maybe?"

Lestrade raised a quizzical eyebrow – Sherlock and support didn't normally go hand in hand.

"How did you even get in? Donavan is-"

"Isn't doing her job properly."

"_Sherlock..."_ Kate's whisper had added urgency.

"Same as the other girl wasn't it?"

"Yes, but Sherlock I don't-"

"_SHERLOCK!"_ Only then did both men acknowledge her. She wavered and reached out for Sherlock's coat, but instead ran backwards and round to the side of the house by the hedge.

"Where is-"

"How did you become a police inspector again?" Sherlock went over to Kate. She was bent over gagging, she rose up coughing. He passed her a tissue; she attempted a smile as she took it and wiped her mouth.

"Home?" Kate delicately nodded. Sherlock guided her towards the blue tape, resisting the sudden urge to move his hand down to the small of her back; he was used to ignoring his body. John appeared to be calmly engaged in a one-sided argument with Sgt. Donavon, involving him nodding. A lot.

"Come on John, we're leaving."

John looked at Sherlock, then Kate, shook his head and sighed. He had never made it past the tape.

"Really I'll be fine, Auntie-"

"Mrs Hudson will be asleep and you wretching will not help her, just come upstairs and have some tea." Kate couldn't bring herself to verbally respond to Sherlock's order, but silently appealed to John for help.

"For the shock." Was all he could say.

"See, even the doctor says so, lead the way."

Sherlock noted how Kate gripped the banister up the stairs tighter than usual and wobbled slightly with each step. She slightly lost her footing and he automatically reached out to her waist to support her and guide her up the stairs.

Once in the living room of 221B Kate sat on the edge of the sofa staring blankly into nothing, she unconsciously grabbed a cushion and hugged it. John busied himself in the kitchen making the tea. Sherlock went into another room to hunt for a blanket wanting to wrap it around her. He wanted to wrap himself around her for that matter, he wanted to comfort her in anyway, the way she had stared blankly, the way she had reached out to him at the crime scene – it all unnerved him and confused him even more.

He walked back into the living room and placed the blanket round her shoulders, he left his arms round her longer than he needed to but still he drew no reaction from her. When John brought the tea she only glanced up, her eyes brimming with tears she only managed to nod a thank you. Before long Sherlock noticed her shoulders had started to shake, the tears ran down her porcelain face and into the tea. He looked at John for help, but before he even attempted to comfort her she placed the tea on the table and ran to the bathroom.

It didn't seem much later that Sherlock tried to get into the bathroom. He knocked on the door, but the sound of muffled crying was all that greeted him. He found Kate slumped against the side of the bath, shoulders shaking ferociously, eyes red and a stream of tears pouring down her face.

"I...mean...I didn't...even," she managed to hiccup out. All he could do was nod. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently lifted her up.

Sherlock felt her lean, depend on him. He saw how thin and vulnerable she really was when she slid off her coat and curled up into a tight protective ball in the make-shift John had created on the sofa. He heard her muffled tears, and then her even breaths as she fell into a slumber a loose curl spun across her face. John had gone to bed hours ago, but he was still there watching her from his chair. She whispered lost words, she tossed and turned from side to side, her breathing quickened and all he could do was watch. Once her breathing had settled and movements stopped, Sherlock gave into temptation and tucked the curl behind her ear.

"Kate? John have you seen Kate?" rushed Mrs. Hudson as she practically ran into the room. John himself had just come downstairs and was about to enter the kitchen. He pressed a finger to his lips then gestured to the two sleeping figures. Sherlock had gone to sleep in his chair, while Kate was still curled by on the sofa, the wild curl safely behind her ear. She stirred at her Aunt's loud entrance and sighed. Mrs. Hudson perched on the end of the sofa, she sat up. Then the events hit her of the day before hit her. Mrs Hudson patted her leg affectionately before Kate turned at her with tears in her eyes. Kate fell on her shoulder, crying and heaving up and don with her breathing.

"I'm...not...even...for...her" It was all muffled but it awoke Sherlock.

"I know, I know dear," Mrs Hudson wrapped her arms around Kate, stroked her back and kissed her head. All Sherlock couldn't do.

"Now my dear I think you have prayed enough on these poor gentlemen's time." Kate attempted to nod.

"Thank you, dears" acknowledged Mrs Hudson as she led Kate downstairs.

* * *

><p><strong>Compared to the others a shorter chapter, not quite sure where to go from here, but I will get thinking! I added a bit of crime in this section, but I am no great writer of the details of it so apologies. <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry about all the mistakes in the last chapter! Thank you to those of you have added and commented as well - very much appreciated! Just trying to keep ploughing on with the story now!**

* * *

><p>Kate started to run. Running was her freedom. She got away from the constant fussing of Mrs Hudson, she got away from all the family ties, she got away from real life without John and Sherlock. Sherlock. Plugged into her iPod she would run, disappearing to another world in her head, but even then she couldn't get away. He would appear in Prince-form to rescue her, but she pushed him out in the real world too. It seemed the rolls had reversed now she was out running when he was home. When he needed to be close to her. Needed to protect her.<p>

To Sherlock it was blatantly obvious that Becky's murder had been a case of mistaken identity. He was arguing with Lestrade constantly, especially about putting Kate under protection.

"Sherlock, you are being ridiculous."

"Really? To try and save someone's life."

"I can't authorize protection for her, especially when there is _no evidence_."

"Her coat."

"Sher-What?"

"Becky wore Kate's coat home. I guess it could have been an easy mistake they were both black after all, but I just think this gang haven't really thought it through, their not really _t__rying."_

"Trying? Sherlock!"

"Think about it John, she goes out running practically everyday-" this drew a look from Lestrade, but Sherlock just glared and continued, "-if they really didn't want to make it all the more obvious than they already have, they could fake a traffic accident or some-" He froze. Then stared at John.

"Good God."

Suddenly Sherlock leapt into life as though he had been hit by electricity, though instead of his usual elegance he fumbled with papers, knocking them on the floor to get to his phone. He clumsily dialed the number.

"Kate? Kate you-"

_"Oh, hey Prince Charming, finally decided to make contact when I'm not crying or being chased by bad guys?"_Her breathing was heavy she was obviously still running.

Sherlock blushed, a glance passed between the other men, Kate obviously didn't realize she was being heard by more people than just Sherlock.

"Kate, you need to come here now."

_"Oh right, need another decoy do we? Must stop everything I'm doing to bow at your designer-clad feet." _Sherlock physically winced.

"Kate you need to get here now, I'll explain everything when you get here. Your not safe."

_"Jesus Christ, Sherlock! Why should I? What the hell is going on in your head? You tell me everything that is wrong with my life, then you ask me out to fricken' dinner to play your stupid little games, just ba-" _A muffled cry, a crash, then the phone went dead.

"Kate? _Kate_! KATE!"

* * *

><p>She had been so bitter, so cruel. Why had she done that? She hadn't meant to be so harsh to him, maybe it was just the anger at everything, it just had to be him.<p>

Shouting at the phone getting funny looks but just running, then suddenly out of no-where a big silver 4x4, hardly a subtle vehicle, skidded out. Next thing she was flying, like a dream, spinning round. Then it all came crashing down. Literally.

* * *

><p>"She should wake up soon, how long has she been under now?"<p>

"I don't think her leg is too serious, with a bit of resting it should heal soon enough, walking will be fine, bit tender to start with, does she do much else?"

"Has someone made contact with family?"

"Should he be in here?"

Nurses came and went, doctors poked their heads round the door, questions blurred into one another. The only thing that was constant was his hand in hers. And the breathing. It irritated Sherlock even more than normal, not for the distraction it provided when thinking, but that at that moment he resented every breathe he took, he would give up every single one of his in return for her. For some flutter of life. But he couldn't, he could only be there for her, in presence not words. He wouldn't dare stroke her face for fear of disturbing her, but he wouldn't let go of her hand in case she slipped from his grasp.

John came in and out when he could, though he wouldn't admit it, it was more to check on Sherlock than Kate. He knew Sherlock was used to being without food or sleep, but that was normally a test for his body, but now he seemed so absorbed in Kate that he couldn't think for or about himself. His mind was so concentrated on its' new purpose (whatever that was, John couldn't work it out). He brought offerings of muffins which would be rejected, but have disappeared by the time he came back - only if left in Sherlock's never changing eye-line.

Of course, Mrs Hudson had been there and Sherlock's constant presence hadn't gone unnoticed. She was not stupid, she knew exactly what was behind that constant stare of his and after knowing, well looking after him, for so long she could easily see what depths it must lead to, just by the way he held her hand. She would remember everything to report back to Kate - she even smiled when she though of the reaction.

It was amazing actually that Sherlock had not been completely thrown out. He was saved (dare him to admit) by a bubbly nurse, who fortunately was a romantic.

"So she your girlfriend then?"

"No." he threw a glare then returned his stare to Kate.

"Any family relation?"

"No."

The nurse chuckled, "Oh I see, well you never know how important something is until you nearly lose it." He turned and gave her a quizzical frown, she laughed again then left.

* * *

><p>Then she squeezed his hand. Sherlock swore he had imagined it. But then her eyelids fluttered and she squeezed it tighter before blinking again and awakening. It was like Sleeping Beauty being raised from her peaceful sleep, no words were uttered, a single look passed between the two individuals before the doctors and nurses descended.<p>

"Hello Kate, how's your speech? How you feeling?"

"Weird." Sherlock nearly smiled.

"Ok then, can you remember what happened?"

"It wasn't my fault." She looked down at her leg, then at Sherlock, then rubbed her head. The doctor opened his mouth to encourage but she started without his prompting.

"I was running. Big 4x4 I think. Span round and hit me. I was...I was on the phone to you." She turned and looked at Sherlock, who faltered under her heavy gaze and looked away. Our lovely romantic nurse was in there and hurried away the doctor, pointing out that her brain obviously hadn't been too affected and she needed to rest. Once the doctor had been bundled out, she winked at Sherlock and shut the door.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, I don't know what, I'm so sorry," she gushed at him, her brow crinkled her emotions getting the better of her.

He gripped her hand, "Don't." They stared into one another's eyes losing themselves in the maze of the other's emotions. Sherlock didn't know how long they stayed like that for, he would of stayed like that forever if it kept her close. One part of his brain was telling him to lean in and kiss her, to entangle is arms around her and never let her go, the other protested - it was all terribly...well...human, and if he really...well...then it would be best to leave her alone - she would only get hurt. His logical half of his brain had won. He rose.

"No, don't leave me!" he turned back, her eyes were near to over-flowing, he sat down and at once she reached out and clasped his hand once more. He was shocked - no ever treated him this way, he was...wanted.

* * *

><p>Both John and Mrs. Hudson had joined them by the time the doctors' decided to bless them once again with their presence. They told Kate that they were very pleased with her progress - it felt like school - and her brain hadn't been to affected by the crash. Though it was possible she might forget some long-term memories, she would have to stay and home with her leg and they needed to have a guarantee that someone would be there to help her. They said she would be walking again before she knew it. Satisfied that he got over the main points the doctor turned to leave. Kate's voice wavered as she stopped the doctor and asked him her only question.<p>

"Dance? Well, yes once your back on two feet you could go back to the little rave-ups they have these days if you wanted," he smiled a Cheshire Cat grin,

"Actually...I was thinking more...structured..."

"But Kate you haven't done ballet for years!" exclaimed Mrs. Hudson, Kate blushed ferociously, the doctor's expression was rivaled only by Sherlock's and John's bemused faces.

"Well my dear, if you are willing to put in the work you could rebuild your strength, yes you could." Now determined not to be questioned anymore, he swiftly turned on his heels and left.

"Thanks for that." Kate sent a withering looking in Mrs. Hudson's direction,

"What?" she smiled,

"If it wasn't for this bloody thing," she gestured to her leg, " I would curl up in a fetus position, and maybe even throw a pillow at you for good measure." she smirked triumphantly.

"You have been spending too much time with Sherlock," laughed John. Kate stole a sideways glance at Sherlock then snorted, which sent her into a fit of laughter. Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed as the whole room erupted, didn't they realize how serious this could of been, how serious it was? But laughing is infectious and even the only Consulting Detective isn't completely immune to it, he found himself smiling.

But soon Kate had to admit she was tired and fell into a fitful sleep, and so things returned to normal, to the pattern that had kept them all on edge. John and Mrs. Hudson did their bit, coming and going, but Sherlock stayed. Afraid of losing her every time she closed her eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>So another Chapter finally! I have no idea if any of the medical stuff could happen and I know it is a tad unrealistic, but hey! I need it for some other scenes I have in mind... Please comment! Thank you.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

"Home Sweet Home," Kate sighed as the black cab pulled up outside 221 Baker Street. John smiled at her. Mrs Hudson was already in the doorway, arms open wide, beaming as though she was sunshine. John, a gentleman as always, stepped out of the cab and held open the door, whilst Sherlock armed himself with crutches in one hand and offered assistance with the other. She could of been a lady gracefully stepping out of a horse-drawn carriage in a period drama, if one leg hadn't been caked in plaster and once in the open-air she hadn't practically fallen on Sherlock while he passed her her crutches. She still wasn't used to them so a long process was then performed, but soon they were all safely behind the familiar door, all cramped in the little hallway.

"So, where are you going now?" Sherlock was met with a room full of questioning faces.

"Umm..Auntie's of course? Why am I missing something?"

"Mrs Hudson is going to visit an old friend in a few days."

Kate turned a look of realization passing over her face, it was tiring for her to hide her emotions as well as she normally did. "Oh god, yes, I completely forgot!" this caused a flash of worry in Sherlock's mind - memory. "Well, you _must _go! I'll be fine on my own once I get settled."

"No my dear I don't have to go..."

"Yes you do, she needs you more than me!" To finish the conversation she moved towards 221A,

"But you need someone with you, to look after you."

"Auntie you worry too mu-"

"I'm sorry Kate but I think that was the only reason you were discharged, because one of us was always there, on a professional outlook I wouldn't have let you go otherwise." John's opinion was held in higher stead than he imagined in the present company.

"So what are you suggesting?" sighed Kate looking back at Sherlock.

"Stay at 221B" he shrugged as though it was obvious.

"But surely, I mean it's very nice of you but won't I get underfoot?"

"Not at all, I have no cases, John works, it will be fine." Ending the conversation definatley he started up the stairs.

"Do you mind at all John?"

"It will be OK." He'd suffered weirder visitors.

"Are you sure, once I go upstairs I'm not coming back down!"

* * *

><p>Stray bits of paper still littered the floor, every possible surface was covered in evidence of some sort, on the sofa the cushions had been sent into disarray and a blanket discarded. She openly sighed, although she wasn't the neatest person on earth she knew that the extent of this untidiness would annoy her in time - especially with the drugs she was taking. John found her reaction funny and smiled as he moved into the kitchen. Sherlock, on the other hand, launched himself into picking up papers, moving the blanket and plumping the cushions. John turned to stare, mouth open, eyes wide.<p>

"Stop, stop," Kate laughed, she awkwardly stepped forward and touched his arm. He jolted upright. She moved to take the papers out of his hand, forgetting her crutches. Sherlock steadied her before moving the papers away - she didn't need to know just yet. She smiled. God it was breath-taking. If there was such a thing, his logical side of his brain was even enchanted. But he found himself beaming back into nothing as Kate sat heavily on the sofa lifting her legs up.

"Yes, I think I will be very happy here, my spot!" she laughed again.

"Kate, umm...I think you should speak to your mum..." Mrs. Hudson trailed of sheepishly.

"What? Oh god, you rang my mother?"

"Well, you were in a car accident-"

"You know how she gets..."

Sherlock passed her his phone. She sighed, "Who's side are you on?" His face twisted with confusion once more, his hand went to retrieve the phone but was stopped when Kate grabbed it, as she lifted the phone to her ear with her other hand. The conversation that followed was a tense one and was kept as short as possible on this side. Kate tensed and she spoke through gritted teeth towards the end of the phone call trying to prevent herself from shouting. Though he was only subconsciously making these connections in his mind, she had still not let go of his hand, gripping it if she needed to and he just stared at them, how they were intertwined.

She smiled as she returned the phone, but it lost it's spark when she realised she was still holding his hand, she used it to pull herself up, to change her position on the sofa, it made it seem like that was her intention all along. Then she dropped his hand. It stayed there outstretched, offering before falling limply back to his side, like it was separate from him. Sherlock nodded, before glancing at both John and Mrs. Hudson. Good, they hadn't noticed.

Mrs. Hudson squeezed on the end of the sofa, John started to make tea and Sherlock sank into his chair - a new pattern had begun.

It was now common for John to come home to a full house. Them all watching TV, or Kate and Mrs Hudson laughing, reading, sometimes even sleeping. However Sherlock was a constant. Sat in his chair simply observing the busy coming and goings, sighing occasionally. Though there was one scene he never expected to see...

For Kate cleanliness was the main issue, there was no way she could shower, so awkwardly taking baths was the next option with one leg sticking over the side. She and Mrs Hudson had managed well, choosing times when there was no male presence in the flat - even if it meant sending Sherlock off on little escapades. Today his adventure was a trip to the local store.

"Is a bikini really necessary?"

"Only trying to save your dignity dear,"

"What dignity?" Kate laughed, "Besides you know how distracted he gets,"

"I also know how easily he gets bored." Kate cocked her head to the side in agreement, before delicately sinking into the warm bubbly water.

It was bliss. If she ignored the fact that she was in Sherlock's bath. And her leg was in plaster. And how she was now too thin. She pushed all thoughts from her head and sank into the water, letting stray curls dip in and swirl around. She could her Mrs Hudson pottering around 221B, most likely clearing up after some unexploded experiment bound to be put in the wrong place. Then she heard the phone ring. Damn. She was going to be a prune at this rate.

After nearly falling asleep in the bath, not a wise thing to do, she heard footsteps once more. Ah, good. She started to yell.

"Auntie! Auntie, can you help?" She felt about five, but there was no answer. "Hello? Anybody?" She moved in the bath causing a bang. The bathroom door swang open with a thud.

_"Areyoualright?" _rushed Sherlock. He then saw Kate in the bath and blinked. Twice. She stared back eyes wide open. Thank God for the bikini.

"Just a bit stuck." she blushed and gestured to her leg.

"Hand?" Although it was not the logical side talking there was something truly endearing about the little pale face peering out through bubbles.

"Please." He obviously knows about the bikini.

Sherlock moved from the door and crouched by the bath, Kate shifted so she was sitting upright. She placed her arms on his shoulders and put all her weight on him and he slowly pulled her up, arms round her waist. She was leaning against his chest causing his dress shirt to become very wet. She pulled back slightly to apologise, placing her hands now on his shoulders. But slipped causing a on-slaught of water to hit both of them and bubbles to fire in the air. He caught her, firmly wrapping his arms around her waist as a reflex she grabbed out round his neck. This caused there noses to bump. This caused them to laugh inches away from each others faces. Que John to enter...

Although Kate had always been good at hiding her feelings she was whisked back to hospital for an appointment for her leg. It caused her a lot of pain, sometimes even when she was sitting (sprawling) on the sofa. Mrs Hudson had gone visiting, so Kate had let her guard down with `the mother` out of the way, obviously forgetting she was crashing at the home of a well-trained army doctor and a high-functioning sociopath.

"This is absolutely ridiculous. Everything is fine."

They were sat in the back of a black cab, rain was sprinting down the windows completing the sullen atmosphere. Kate's eyes followed the runaways creating patterns out of the droplets, she really didn't want to go back to hospital. She hated them. Besides they would only give her more drugs. Yay.

"You're sulking."

"Been spending to much time with you." she snapped back, she hadn't looked at Sherlock once the entire journey and didn't plan to now, he had been surprisingly forceful in getting her to go to the hospital. They sat in silence for a little while longer both staring out their own windows.

"You know I'm right."

"Of course oh genius one," her voice filled with sarcasm but cracked as Sherlock nodded his head to the side in agreement.

"Hey! Your not meant to agree!" she laughed and hit him, smiling. Damn. Plan failed.

Hospitals were so bland. So white. So dull. Sherlock avoided them whenever possible, he had John why would he need to go to them? But Kate needed her specialist and he needed to be there to make sure he was doing his job properly. And as much as she denied it, Kate needed him there. The truth was she was scared, she was a `worry-er`. Surely these new drugs awaiting her arrival would have worse side-effects? Wouldn't they be stronger? Would she need to stay in hospital? Again?

"Do you want to come in with me?"

"Yes." No hesitation on Sherlock's part.

"Well then, just go with it." She moved of towards the entry desk.

"Hello, how can I help you?" the receptionist was on auto-pilot, looking up at the clock behind them every few seconds.

"Hi, I'm Catherine Knight, I've got an appointment with Dr..." she tapped her head.

"Alden, Dr. Alden."

"Ah yes, thank you sweetie," she turned and stroked his arm, shooting him a dazzling smile, but dragging him right up close behind her, not that the receptionist noticed. It suddenly occurred to Sherlock what she was doing. He rested her arm round her shoulders and as if to test him further Kate lent her head into his chest, he stiffened but relaxed for the charade.

"Yes, you can go through, now sir..."

"Oh, can't he come with me?"

"Are-"

"Well, you see we are-"

"We're together." Sherlock twinkled, smoothly cutting in. Both him and Kate smiled sickly sweet smiles, tilting their heads absentmindedly towards each other.

"Well go on through,"

"Thank you." It laced with so many layers. As they moved of down the plain corridor a laugh caught in Kate's throat, she was so close to breaking, Sherlock's response was to squeeze her tighter. Nurses and doctors all scurried past, but our romantic nurse did a double take. She hadn't forgotten the tall, dark stranger waiting on a girl. She smiled and nodded at Sherlock, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Who was that?" Kate tried to peer round his side, but he practically pushed her into the consulting room to avoid anymore questioning.

* * *

><p>"And what have I got to show for that? Drugs." Sherlock decided it was best not to answer.<p>

"Oh but with these you can have your plaster off sooner," her voiced changed becoming mockingly high-pitched. She then proceed to pull a face like a 5 year old before connecting in her brain that she was still infront of a man that made her heart leap. She smiled sheepishly as they walked away from the hospital.

Once safe in a cab from the fresh onslaught of rain, Kate felt safe enough to ask a question that had been hovering at the back of her mind.

"Why me?"

"Mmm?"

"Well," she looked away, she didn't expect to have to explain herself,"Surely you, Sherlock Holmes, could have any wom..." That came out wrong. "I mean, is it for a case or something?"

For once Sherlock's emotions leaked on to his face. He would have to justify himself. He had never expected to be asked of such a thing from her. He had started to look upon her as someone like John, someone who could welcome him, complete with his nature. He visually struggled with his thoughts, contorting his angular face. All Kate could do was stare, wondering what she had unlocked and how she could desperately take it back.

They were coming round the corner to Baker Street by now and still the silence closed the gap between them. Sherlock stormed out, roughly shoving the money to the cabbie, leaving his door open but leaving Kate to fend for herself and marched on to the door. Kate exited the cab as quickly as she could and advanced behind him.

"Sherlock?" It was a barely audible whisper, she stroked his arm. His anger and confusion had spread to his fingers which were frantically fumbling with the keys and at the touch he broke.

"Why? Why do I have to defend my actions towards you? Why must I have some background reason for doing anything in life?"

"I didn't-" But he was in full flow.

"Couldn't just be for once that I care? That actually want to do something without thinking about a case or anything? Maybe be I want to help and protect you, but oh no it must be to find out more about your bloody ex-boyfriend trying to kill you, to out the little gang. Oh yes, just another achievement, so I can add it to my list." His voice broke and he swept into the flat, shaking from his outburst.

He left her there trying to process everything. Part of her was screaming, `Your being hunted,` the other reveling in the grand show of emotion she had just witnessed. `He's only human. He's only human. He _can be _human.`

She drifted into the flat without taking her eyes of him once. Sherlock had decided that in that one moment he had exposed too much and set his mind back on the case. He had thrown his coat on the sofa, but left his scarf tousled around his neck, he picked up evidence and began to flick through it. He stopped as he felt her presence, yet he had still not collected his emotions so he didn't look at her.

"How long have you known?" she still whispered and decided to only concentrate on that release of information.

"Since the restaurant." She nodded once, sitting on the sofa then gestured for the papers. He gave them to her before sitting beside her watching her eyes quickly scan across his notes and the pictures.

"Should I-" his voice had regained it's composure, but was still too quiet to fill the room.

"Its OK," she whispered, "Its OK," whether she was referring to this or his eruption he couldn't tell. However she placed a hand on his leg to soothe him then lent into him, whispering as she did so,

"You're only human."


	6. Chapter 6

Mrs. Hudson was still away when the cast came off Kate's leg. She could move around with ease now, but borrowed John's stick if she needed to, especially when conquering stairs. Standing was also a killer, though she still insisted on cooking dinner every night if not for her own sake. Sherlock spotted her more than once staring at her body in the mirror, tracing the outline of her ribs. So, some past eat-No. He stopped himself, he didn't want to draw conclusions with her anymore, anything she wanted to she could tell him, after she had seen him at his rawest state. Yet she still hadn't ventured back down to 221A to sleep. After feeding them (sometimes forcefully with one particular individual) she would spread out on the sofa and watch TV with them or discuss the case. Everything that happened with it now, any new developments passed through her. She was now heavily involved, in more ways than one.

Maybe that was why she hadn't dared to go downstairs. She knew everything now. And what was worse she could believe it. Believe that this man who she had promised to spend the rest of her life with would want her dead. So she still crashed out on the couch, grabbing a few blissful black hours, and blaming it on the drugs each morning. Which was believable, she sometimes emerged from the bathroom pale and shaking, tiredness wasn't the only side effect.

So, when she cleared up all the dishes and placed them on the side and announced she was going to bed one night, it was met with two priceless faces.

She laughed. "What? I _do_ still know where my bedroom is." She was stood behind Sherlock's chair and he craned his neck to look at her. She squeezed his shoulders. His body still reacted badly to the touch tensing under her hands, but his mind reeled.

"Goodnight then, see you in the morning." And with that she floated down the stairs. Sherlock's eyes didn't leave the doorway until he heard the faint click of 221A's front door. He then exhaled loudly and glanced around the room. He did a double take at John's silent mirth.

"What?"

"Nothing," John smirked.

"Oh. You think I'm lusting after her, that she's the only one for me. You think I've fallen in love." Sherlock was back to his most patronizing tone.

"And are my deductions correct?" Sherlock turned to look at him an eyebrow raised. "Are you falling in love with her?" John had meant it as a joke but he could see Sherlock actually thinking about it. He could hear the the cogs whirring in his head as he rose to finish clearing up.

"You know love is more of a-"

"Sherlock, I was joking," John smiled his `worry-smile`. He was used to Sherlock being so assertive about everything, judging other people's feelings instead of his own. He picked up the plates of the side, clattering on purpose to fill the silence. He stopped momentarily as he heard Sherlock whisper to himself.

"I don't know John, I don't know."

The duvet was mangled, her hair was plastered across her face and she was sweating so much it had soaked through her pajama top. She panted heavily, trying to regain her breath she was bolt upright, chest heaving up and down. She stole a glance at her digital clock, she groaned and fell forward on the bed, shaking her head into the crumpled duvet. She had always been a vivid dreamer, she had even had conversations with people before now, but this was haunting. It was the second time in ten minutes that she had woken herself up because of that one nightmare. No prizes for guessing what it was about.

"Catherine Knight, I cannot believe you are doing this." She was out of bed, safely wrapped in her knitted cardigan and stood behind the front door. She sighed then tip-toed up the stairs.

He wasn't in his chair. God, it would have been so much easier if he was. All she needed was company. She had never dared to enter his room before, she wondered if anyone had. She quietly knocked twice then slowly peered round the door.

"You might as well come in." The room was lit only by a small lamp, Kate could make out shapes of jackets, shoes and piles of tattered books. Sherlock, himself, was lying on top of the covers with an equally worn book in his hands. She quietly stepped in, shutting the door behind her. He smiled over the top of his book, before shutting it and chucking it on the bedside table.

"Don't you want a book mark for that?"

"Easy to remember the page."

"Oh, of course," she whispered. She felt like a child. Oh, sod it, she was here now. She clambered onto the other side of the bed. His only movement was to prop himself up higher, he was still wearing his suit trousers and dress shirt, which pulled taut as he moved. She blushed as he caught her staring.

"Bad dream?"

"That obvious?" she tucked her hair behind her ear as she crawled under the thin duvet.

"About?"

"Guess."

"Ah."

Silence.

"Do you mind? I just, I don't want to be alone." Her voice trailed of as she buried her head into the pillow. He reached out to stroke her head. She looked up and he quickly withdrew it, she smiled inwardly.

"Don't you ever sleep?"

"Yes, everyone _has_ to at some point."

"You just have to be the exception." She smiled at him as he tried to defend himself.

"I don't have time for sleep, and if I dream whilst sleeping then they just block up my hard drive-" Kate giggled. "-as it where." He frowned. "My body has now become used to it, it would mess everything up if I-" Kate murmured and shifted under the covers. Sherlock stared at her and smiled, then lay down next to her, heads level. He stayed on top of the covers - his mother would be proud.

She woke up screaming again. Panting, sweating, shaking. She'd already kicked off the duvet, but she wouldn't stop yelling. Sherlock was sat up in an instant he grabbed her face in his hands.

"Shh shh, its ok, everything's ok." He stroked her cheeks, wiping away her tears, brushing her hair behind her ears. Her one hand raised itself to grab his, he pulled her in. He enclosed his arms around her, "No-ones going to hurt you."

She clasped onto his shirt, leaving tear traces on the fabric. "Don't leave me." His only response was to rock her gently and stroke her hair.  
>Sherlock was very proud of his performance, but Kate could hear the pace of his heart telling a very different story.<p>

They say that when you sleep your true intentions are revealed. Sherlock woke up to find Kate's head on his chest, one of his arms still wrapped around her, their hands intertwined. He stared for her sleeping form for a while, his heartbeat still rapid. But slowly his logical brain started to awaken, it was the longest sleep he had had for awhile - his body was still adjusting, this filled him with alarm in the situation he had placed himself in. His brain was shooting ideas at him of how to escape this current position, not that any of them got processed he was to busy staring at Kate.

She stirred, blinking twice at the hand she found herself clutching onto, was that Sherlock? No it couldn't... But when she turned her head she saw the familiar tumble of curls and two grey eyes peering at her. Though is body was tense under her, she read so much in his eyes, so much confusion. Kate moved off him, smiled, then got out of the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"Make breakfast, want some?"

"Not real-"

"Who said it was a choice?" She winked at him.

"You clearly said-" But again he was silenced as she rose from the edge of the bed laughing. She walked over to the door, Sherlock thought it best to follow.

Kate had frozen in the doorway after opening the door,

"What?" mumbled Sherlock, raising a hand to ruffle his hair. Then he too froze, staring back at the equally rigid state of John Watson who was just about to enter the kitchen. Kate raised both hands to her cheeks, presumably as she blushed, thought Sherlock, her whole body had became hot in front of him. She mumbled something about finding some cereal downstairs before rushing out to the landing. John still stood there staring.

"What?" John's eyes widened in disbelief and he shook his head. "Ohhh. No, no, no, no." It was the longest expression of realisation that Sherlock had ever made, and with his immediate denial afterwards John couldn't help but laugh. A little laugh echoed out from the stairway.

Now it was Sherlock's turn to blush.

* * *

><p><strong>Little bit of `filler` this one, had an idea and just went with it. Please review! <strong>


	7. Chapter 7

"Hello dears?" yelled up Mrs Hudson.

"Auntie!" Kate practically bounded down the stairs to see her Great-Aunt, who had just piled in from the rain dripping wet and hauling her big black suitcase.

"Look at you on two legs!" The women embraced and laughed as they toppled to one side. Kate was a good head taller than Mrs Hudson, making it all the more comical.

"Here let me take that for you." The two men had followed Kate down and whilst Sherlock sat on a step John moved to carry the baggage.

"Oh, you are good Dr. Watson," Mrs Hudson beamed, they seperated to allow John through, Kate moved back towards Sherlock and as she went to topple again he rose and steadied her, almost instinctively.

"And how are you dear?" She gave Sherlock a hug, noting his reaction to Kate beforehand. Once they broke apart she tugged at Kate's shirt.

"You're looking thin,"

"I've always been thin." She tugged it back into place.

"But she has been cooking us meals every night," John had re-emerged back into the hallway.

"Really?"

"Yes, why is that such a surprise? It wasn't just pasta! Besides I have been crashing on their couch."

"All the time I've been away?" Mrs Hudson scrutinized Kate.

"Mmm-mmm" she nodded, glancing away, flicking a look at Sherlock.

"Huh, well thank you very much dears, but I would very much like to put my feet up and have a cuppa." She moved off into 221A, Sherlock turned to go up the stairs and as John and Kate crossed paths they raised their eyebrows at one another.

"You _SLEPT _with him."

"_The doors still open!_" Kate slammed the door, John and Sherlock had turned at the outburst - they were only halfway up the stairs.

* * *

><p>"Sherlock Holmes, the man that lives above me <em>comforted <em>you?"

"Yes, Auntie don't you think you're being a little harsh?" It was true Mrs Hudson wasn't quite herself, she hadn't had quite the holiday she was expecting, she wasn't used to travelling and after being bombarded with such chaos as soon as she came home had set her a little on edge.

"Maybe, but he's always been a bit..."

"Tense? Yes I suppose, but he kind of warmed up a bit in the end."

"In the end? There was a beginning?"

"Why don't I make you your cuppa and tell you everything?"

"Cup of tea? My dear, I think I need a glass of wine."

* * *

><p>Sherlock had bolted up the stairs and was now tapping away on his Blackberry, purposefully ignoring John who then gave up trying to get his attention. They could hear raised voices from below, which then dissolved into laughter, which in turn dissolved into chinking of glasses.<p>

In John's mind their had only been one...instance and he knew that nothing had come of it, Sherlock did his best to avoid all conversation topics surrounding it, but he was still at his most `human` around Kate.

Sherlock knew that there had been other...instances, in fact Kate had crept into his bed nearly every night, each time they moved closer in together before drifting off to sleep. Every night he had reveled in the fact that he was actually needed, emotionally needed, but each morning the same flicker of panic crept over him. He decided that he had let himself go - he was still no nearer to proving the truth to Lestrade - and now Mrs Hudson was back he probably wouldn't even be `needed` anymore.

"I'm going to meet up with Sarah, that OK?" John broke the silence.

"I don't want to go."

"Good. Didn't you notice Sherlock? _I'm_ going to see Sarah, not _you and I_."

"You didn't seem to mind the other times."

"I didn't exactly have much of a choice." John was slipping on his coat and shaking his head. "See you later." Sherlock nodded at him, then went back to his phone.

Just as one lot of footsteps had echoed out the hallway, a new set of running ones burst up the stairs. Kate entered breathless and laughing.

"Mrs. Hudson's got..." she stopped and looked around the room, "Where's John?" It wasn't often she and Sherlock were left alone together (in the daytime).

"Out."

"I can see that. Aww, are you all aloney?" she pouted at him, using her most patronizing baby voice. Two can play at that game.

"What has Mrs Hudson got?" This was now just pointless chit-chat again.

"Basically a boyfriend. It's just depressing."

"Depressing?"

"Because I-Never mind."

They sat in silence. Kate had noticed the change in him already, more recently he had been keen to at least try to partake in conversation and she didn't dare question him about the case.

"So, your all alone?" Sherlock didn't bother to grace it with an answer. "I mean, do you want to, maybe, go somewhere..." she trailed off. Then looked at him sideways.

"I need to go and collect some more stuff for the case." And then he was gone.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she pounced on the sofa, shoving her head in the pillow, hitting it back and forth.

"What's the matter?" Mrs Hudson had come up, when she heard Sherlock leave. Kate sat up, hair even frizzier.

"I just thought it was a good idea to ask out a highly-functioning sociopath-" Mrs Hudson sat down beside her. "-and expected him to say yes." She grimaced.

"Maybe you should `get back out there`. Why is that funny?"

"Just when you say it!" She grinned. "Anyway I'm still running from the last one..."

Sherlock had gone out with the full intention to find some more god-forsaken evidence then go back to Lestrade, (who was proving particularly hard to convince, he just needed more evidence to show to his superiors and Sherlock was the only one who could find any) but he ended up wandering down side streets and soon found himself strolling down by the river. A young couple were feeding each other chips straight out of the wrappings, a young mother was desperately trying to control her offspring, then he came to an elderly pair sitting on a bench just staring out deep into the river. He hadn't noticed them, so he had stopped and he too stared at the ripples in the water. He had never expected Kate to `ask him out`, in his mind that was below her. She should have known his answer, only women who didn't understand him asked him out on _dates._ He would have spat the word.

"You wanting for your sweetheart, dear?" Sherlock glanced round when he realised the question was for him.

The old women now turned to her husband, "We used to meet here, didn't we dear?" He nodded, then her attention was back on Sherlock, "You can sit here we are just leaving."

"Oh, thank you," he was deep in thought and struggled to remember any common courtesy he might know.

"I bet she's pretty as picture," the lady said as she and her husband rose arm-in-arm. Sherlock unwittingly brought Kate's image to the fore-front of his mind. Both he and the couple exchanged quick smiles before he was dragged down back into thought.

_Or maybe she understood him too much. _

Kate had stayed on the sofa at 221B, she stretched out, staring upwards at the ceiling. She pointed her toes, huh, so this did help you think. What was she doing? Does she have to sit it out? She could stay, or visit an old school friend to get away or...

"Home," she breathed out. She sighed, then scrunched up her eyes, she didn't want to think anymore. Mrs Hudson had left her, warning her to be out the way when Sherlock got back - "You can never tell with him." - and soon she could hear the echoing sound of Frank Sinatra crooning up the stairs. She smiled. Whenever they had visited Mrs Hudson when she was a girl, she could always remember Frank Sinatra, she remembered dancing round the kitchen and as she grew up joining in with the lyrics. She still loved the `oldies` and had a sudden urge to dance, why not? The cast was off her leg and no one was here.

She rose, laughing to herself at what she was about to do. She stood on tip-toe, raising her arms in an perfect arc, she stepped forward with pointed toes, shifting weight before extending her leg right out. That didn't hurt too much, maybe she could try a pirouette...

* * *

><p>Sherlock had come back from his wandering with nothing. He silently clicked the front door behind him and hung up his coat. He allowed the waves of music to wash over him, he had never complained to Mrs Hudson about it as it was a very rare occurrence. He felt a twinge of, what John would call, guilt as he thought of his early morning violin practices. He climbed the stairs thinking of how recently he had been experiencing more emotion, or as close as he could come to it.<p>

_I know I stand in line until you think you have the time  
><em>_To spend an evening with me_

He stopped in the doorway as soon as he saw Kate dancing round his living room. He found himself smiling as she beamed, extending one leg out perfectly straight, pointing her toes. Yet when she started to turn it was wiped clean of his face. He knew how this could end. At the first twitch of her supporting leg he moved to her side, perfectly timed to catch her as she fell. He brought her upright, they were facing one another, bodies pressed close.

_And if we go someplace to dance  
><em>_I know that there's a chance  
><em>_You won't be leaving with me  
><em>_And afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two  
><em>_And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like "I love you" _

Somehow they began to dance. It started with them swaying, Sherlock's hand already round her waist, then Kate's moved up to his shoulder, their linked hands moved out to the side and they started to rock back and forth taking tiny steps.

_I can see it in your eyes _  
><em>That you despise the same old lies you heard the night <em>_before_

She pushed closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. His grip on her tightened. He didn't think he'd ever been this close to someone.

_And though it's just a line to you, for me it's true _  
><em>And never seemed so right before <em>

She raised her head and started to softly sing in his ear. He leaned into her.

_I practice every day to find some clever lines to say _  
><em>To make the meaning come through <em>  
><em>But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late and I'm alone with you <em>  
><em>The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red and, oh, the night's so blue <em>  
><em>And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like "I love you" <em>

He suddenly span her round, before quickly pulling her back in and grasping her again. Though she was once again to the side of him their eyes were locked, faces angling into one another.

_The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red and, oh, the night's so blue _  
><em>And then I go and spoil it all by sayin' something stupid like "I love you" <em>

She was back to singing in his ear, breath tickling the side of his face, the soft words floating round his head.

_I love you _  
><em>I love you <em>  
><em>I love you<em>

"I love you." She wasn't singing anymore and she immediately froze once she had whispered it. She pulled away and stepped back from him.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock just kept staring. "Thanks for... catching me. Again." She attempted a nervous laugh. "Well, I won't get in your way." She turned on her heel and stumbled to the door.

She nearly ran into Mrs Hudson and John who were both standing and staring out on the landing. She stopped, they both raised their eyebrows at her. She let out a heavy breath, then pushed past them Mrs Hudson rushing after her trying to catch her arm, and whispering her name.

Kate slammed into the living room, she fumbled with the CD player until she smacked the stop button and the music went dead. She turned at lent heavily on the chest of drawers it was stood on, dizzy with emotion.

"Kate-" Mrs Hudson whispered.

"Just don't OK. I know. I know! It's stupid, I know, I know, I know." Her voiced raised and cracked it the space of a sentence, disintegrating into heavy breaths mingled with sobs. She opened her mouth again, then quickly ran into her room slamming the door.

Mrs Hudson didn't think she'd seen so much raw emotion from Kate in her life.

* * *

><p>Sherlock was still frozen in the centre of the living room. He was at a complete loss, the now silent music swirled round his head echoing in corners. His mind had been so focused and on task, yet one little thing had just drawn him away all over again. He couldn't understand anything. He didn't have time to dwell on it though.<p>

"What the hell are you doing?" John had spun into the room and spoke with fire in his voice.

"What?"

"What were you doing?"

"What did it look like?" Sherlock snapped.

"What were you thinking?" John's voice has raised. Sherlock stopped and stared.

"John, don't tell me-"

"That's it Sherlock, I watch you nearly everyday use people, but this is out of line."

Sherlock felt a pang in his chest, but threw it aside and retaliated with anger.

"Oh John, feeling the need to run to her rescue? Act the hero?"

"Sherlock she is delicate, you see, you _know_ that. Yet you continue to use her? What the hell do you hope to gain? If you hurt her Sherlock," John raised his voice again, but Sherlock just moved his head in scorn, "if you hurt her _emotions_, you will have me to answer to, I don't care how it sounds, Sherlock. Back off, she's not a game." All force came behind the last word. It cut off all Sherlock's rage and a mist seemed to cloud his pale eyes.

"John, even you-" he stopped his whispered sentence, looked away then turned and hastened away to his room. John's anger had been thrown by the look in his friends eyes and sank into his chair once Sherlock's door and slammed in his face. He furrowed his brow reconsidering his own quick judgement. Could there be another motive for Sherlock? He had gone in with such a single-minded view that he hadn't even thought to consider anything else from his friend.

As Mrs Hudson fussed, John pondered in his chair, Sherlock lay on his bed and Kate snuggled into pillows, it started to rain. Quite fitting really.

* * *

><p><strong>Well another chapter! Sorry for a bit of wait! This proves I am just a hopeless romantic - I really do apologise! I was kind of experimenting with writing techniques in this chapter too. The wonderful song is `Somethin' Stupid` by the amazing Frank and Nancy Sinatra, listen whilst reading - it might help! This story has got more `emotional` than I expected and I'm not entirely happy with it, but coming up to end...soonish...I hope... As always please commentreview!**


	8. Chapter 8

It always the same.

_They were dancing. Just dancing in Baker Street. Then he picked her up and as they span the room grew out into a golden ballroom. A long black velvet dress adorned her body, flaring as they span. She even had diamonds round her neck. She lent back into air, laughing and stretched out her arms. He brought her in and nuzzled her nose, still lifting her. She kicked up her legs, but as she lent in once more to kiss him he dropped her. She crunched to the floor and he became just a black figure above her. He disintegrated and the walls began to decay. Huge cracks appeared in the ceiling and great blocks fell and smashed around her. She rolled around on the floor to outmaneuver them, but try as she might she could not stand up. The entire ballroom lost its glow and began to enclose around her, tighter and tighter. Even the diamonds tensed around her throat, choking her. Then she was pinned to the floor, her arms bent, her fist clenched. And then he was on her, the man she was running from. She screamed and kicked out, arms fighting against the hands of steel against her. Then it was Sherlock again, but still her body continued to fight. Then it was him again, back to Sherlock, him, Sherlock, him, Sherlock, him, Sherlock..._

Kate's whole body shook with the force of the scream that woke her up. She sat up and continued to yell. Her pajamas were once more soaked with sweat, her breaths quick and her body shivering. Her leg sent out spasms of pain. She threw her head into the pillow, which muffled her screams till she ran out of breath. She bit it to prove it was real.

She felt her bed dip as someone sat on it and heard the creak as a hand stretched out to her. She spun round. It wasn't him.

Mrs. Hudson wiped away her tears, stroked her hair before she sat closer to hold her shaking body. She sang a long-forgotten lullaby despite the fact a full-grown woman was now curled in her arms, not a weeping infant.

Sherlock stood outside their front door, head resting against it. He listened as the screams turned to whimpers, he listened as the lullabies turned to whispers. His eyes were closed and his fists clenched when John trudged down the stairs to find him.

"I knew you hadn't gone out."

"Could you hear her too?"

"Faintly." John feigned a smile, but Sherlock just looked pained. "You know you wouldn't be able to do anything." Sherlock looked at him. John placed a firm grip on his friend's shoulder and nodded to the stairs. "Try and get some rest."

"How can I?" Sherlock spat.

"Trust me Sherlock, go to bed. There's nothing you can do." Sherlock scowled then threw a longing look at the door before turning up the stairs. John only nodded at his success, his mind was still wondering if he had been too hard on Sherlock.

* * *

><p>"For your efforts last night." Kate smiled as she brandished a mug of tea at Mrs. Hudson. Though a smile lit up her face there were still shadows hollowing out her eyes.<p>

"Thank you dear." Mrs. Hudson shifted on the sofa and dropped her magazine as she reached for the mug. Kate whipped up the fallen magazine and snuggled into the sofa too, resting her head on Mrs Hudson's lap. Her dressing gown swept along too becoming more of a blanket for them both. She began to stroke Kate's hair.

"Now I have to go out in about half an hour."

"Ooo, got a lunch date?" Mrs. Hudson nudged her head and they laughed together.

"You sure you'll be alright?"

Kate sat up, "Yeah, I'll probably just curl up on the sofa and watch some god-awful movies!" She eased a smile and Mrs Hudson kissed her head before leaving for her room.

Kate sank back into the sofa, curling up and hugging a pillow. Her smile was gone.

Both John and Sherlock raised their heads to the landing when they heard the door shut behind Mrs Hudson. Their eyes flicked to look at one another though Sherlock quickly looked away when his gaze met John's. For a while he continued to tap away on his Blackberry, but even John could notice he was tensing and preparing to get up.

Then he elegantly rose, still purposely looking at his phone (despite it being only the home-screen blinking at him) shrugging on his coat with one arm too.

"Where are you off?"

"Evidence. Got a clearer lead." Sherlock tightened the scarf round his neck, but John had also risen.

"Huh." Was all he said moving off into the kitchen.

"Why? What are you doing?"

"Oh, just going to return the milk." John brandished it at him, "not that it matters if your going out."

"No it doesn't." The two stood and eyed each other suspiciously. John made a sudden movement and laughed when Sherlock took several hurried steps forward. Sherlock retaliated with a look chiding John for acting so childish. Though this delayed him, as John had seized the opportunity to dash for the door. However the long-legged detective somehow managed to negotiate around him on the landing and surge down the stairs in front of him.

Both men halted at the inside door facing each other, John with his back to the stairs Sherlock whipped round to face him. Sherlock tried once more to stare John out, but he was too used to coping with Sherlock to back down.

"So,"

"So."

"So, I'm going to return the milk now."

"Yes, and I'm going to find more evidence."

"Yes." Sherlock nearly attempted once more to drive John away, but his mind admitted defeat with a raised eyebrow in John's direction. John copied and stayed frozen until Sherlock had backed away and had safely shut (if not slammed) the door behind him. Only then did John knock once and enter.

Sherlock's plan to distract John had failed, though it was a bit of a long shot anyway. He was surprised at how well John could predict his actions, even if it was something out of the ordinary for him like wanting to see Kate. He rearranged the scarf round his neck and started to walk with a purpose. Maybe he had been searching from the wrong angle. Maybe he should find the source of the gang...

Kate was a sorry state when she opened the door. The rings around her eyes seemed accentuated and her hair was further from the messiest bun she had ever created. One arm of her dressing gown hung limply of her shoulder and one sock was tucked round her pajamas.

When she saw John she assembled a brief smile, but the look in his eyes told her that she didn't have to try.

"Milk?" she questioned a hit of amusement to her voice.

"Well, he doesn't believe I go out and buy it all the time." Kate chuckled through her breath and opened the door wider to let John in.

"Tea?" she moved into the kitchen, "as you've brought the milk." She smiled, John followed her through. She flicked on the kettle and glided to the cupboards.

"I was wrong." John rested a hand on the table.

"I'm sorry?" Kate turned to look at him as she opened the cupboard.

"About him," She stared intently at the rows of stacked mugs lining the shelves. "He does...care for you."

"Really." It was barely a whisper, but she continued selecting two mugs and moving them over to the worktop.

"I know I have, and Mrs Hudson has, said but you see-"

"It's not like him." She finished for him, she forced a smile as she turned once more to him. Then back to the task in hand. She placed a teabag in each mug.

"No, it's not like him." John looked at floor, he didn't know what he had meant to achieve by this, he didn't know how he had expected her to react. Yet this absorbing focus she was holding over this simple task was unnerving.

"So..." John had nothing else to say.

"So we'll wait to see what happens after the case."

"Right...What?"

"Well, you say he's not using me, but even you have no idea how his brain works, I might be useful for something." She stared at the water gushing out the kettle and her voice was even as though they were discussing the weather, but the silent harshness bit at John's ears.

"Kate-"

"I'm not saying I won't give him a chance!" She spun round and her voice cracked, before she restored herself and picked up the milk. John was silenced and the only sound was the chinking of the teaspoon as it met with the edge of the china mugs. Kate brought both over to the table, pulling up a chair.

"So hows Sarah?" She glossed over the previous conversation in such a way that it was as if it never happened.

"No, good, she's good." He sat down as well.

"I bet she is." Kate mumbled mischievously into her tea as she took a sip. John couldn't help but laugh, the conversation moved on.

John had left sometime ago and she had heard him leave the place completely, shoving on boots in the hall and clicking the front door behind him. Part of her was relieved at what he had come to say, but their was still a whisper of doubt lurking in the shadows in the back of her mind. She almost picked up a pad and pencil but quickly decided against it, the only picture she could conjure up to draw was Sherlock's face. His perfectly defined features, his heart shaped lips, the cutting cheekbones, his piercing pale blue eyes...She was fed up with thinking, recently she had managed to isolate herself from emotion during the daytime, her brain was a constant buzz, but all she could do was bottle it up. Perfectly timed to her deciding she needed a rant her phone rang. It was her best friend. Cheesy, she thought, as the phrase came to mind, but appropriate. They had quiet literally been through thick and thin. Nicola, the best friend, had got pregnant at 17 and Kate had been the only one to firmly stick by her all the way. Her baby was 15 now. God, that made Kate feel old.

"Niiiiick,"

"Catherine!" Uh-oh, maybe she was going to be ranted at. "Why have you not rung me? I got your whole `I broke up with a madman, help me spaz` e-mail, what are your on love?"

Kate sighed, she had been in a bit of a state when she wrote that. She calmly and quickly explained everything.

"Holy...God Kate are your ok? Will you be ok? Are the police doing something? What's happening? Are you safe?"

"I'm fine Nick..." She went on to describe her current predicament, along with the investigation and Sherlock.

She finally paused for breath, "Kate?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you have the hots for this detective guy?"

"Who? Sherlock?"

"You do! Blimey Kate getting through them,"

"Nick, it's nothing like-"

"Oh come off it, you practically described his entire face to me without meaning to!"

"Well, nothing's going on! He doesn't exactly...show emotion, he has a brilliant mind, but..."

"Buut..."

"Oh stop it! Your acting like a teenager!"

"So are you!"

* * *

><p>Sherlock clomped into the hall. He stamped his feet and angrily began to unwind his scarf. Hours wasted just traipsing around London. It was an open-and-shut case, why was it so hard? As if in answer he heard a tinkling laugh muffled from the downstairs door. His mood instantly cooled and he stopped to listen. A phone call, female, someone she hadn't seenspoken to for a while - can tell by the way she is laughing and talking loudly as if they were in the room.

"Stop it!" he heard her giggle,"For god sake Nick, leave it! I don't think he could actually feel anything for anyone. I mean I've seen one burst of emotion from him, but even that might have been an act. You see his mind just controls him completely. Hey! I need him on my side." Sherlock felt the pang in his chest turn to a burn and spread, he stumbled banging into the door. He regained himself, hurt quickly changing to rage, and slammed out the door.

* * *

><p>Kate pulled the door open quickly, she had jumped over the sofa and ran when she heard the bang. She dashed out into the small hallway but only saw the tail of the black coat flick round the side of the slamming door.<p>

"Oh God, Oh God..." she whispered over and over down the phone as she sank to the bottom step. Her chest heaved up and down she was close to her forbidden daytime tears, her heart once again turning over with upheaval she had caused for herself.

"Kate? Are you OK?"

"He. Heard. Me" She breathed down the phone.

"Oh God. You didn't mean it did you?" Kate shook her head for no-one. "Kate?" Can you-? Are you-"

She slowly closed her phone chucking it out into the center of the hallway and moving her hand from her heavy head to her burning heart.


	9. Chapter 9

He was angry. He was angry at himself, angry at the case, angry at the world. Angry at _her._

He was still striding up and down in front of their...his front door, his anger not allowing him to stop, to think, to do anything. He let out an almost growl into the street. He raised his leather-clad hand to his lips to brush the noise away, but as he did so a shift of movement at the end of street, hidden in the shadows caught his searching eyes.

Though the man was invisible to every other passerby Sherlock read him off like he was stood shining in broad daylight. Menial part-time job, office? Out of hours part of a gang...

"Ohh," the exclamation escaped out of him with his breath. He was one of them. Sherlock smirked as his mind blanked and relished this new thought of pursuit. He ceased pacing and heightened himself, constantly staring at the gang member. He started to walk off towards him at a normal pace, if anything slower than normal, his mind too full of glee to be rid of those feelings for a while.

Though Sherlock is known to be a master of disguise, at the sight of the black-clad figure gliding towards him the man quickly glanced around and took off.

Sherlock let loose another smirk, his mind's yelp of pursuit now the only thing echoing round his head. With ease he switched from his snails pace to a high powered sprint which would forever keep the man in his sights.

His now blank mind never stopped to listen to that twinge of doubt that the man had been waiting for him.

* * *

><p>His feet pounded on the pavement, in this he found solitude. He was one person. And he could do anything. This was his chase, his hunt, his game and nothing could distract his mind from it.<p>

But then he heard feet behind him joining him in his drumming, a quick glance behind proved that John was tearing up behind him.

His head rolled back round, could he never escape anything?

The running man had also swung round to see his second pursuer, but instead of turning back swiftly like Sherlock he tumbled over his own feet. It was easy for Sherlock to simply stop and scoop him up.

Sherlock grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, yanking the man up, allowing his feet to barely touch the floor.

"Sherlock." John said with an even tone, he didn't interfere, he -beside himself- trusted the man's safety in Sherlock's hands.

But the man recoiled backwards from Sherlock, seeing only the fiery glare in his eyes. It was pointless though, Sherlock's grasp was too tight to escape from.

Sherlock threw him at the wall, his hand still tight around the collar of his clothes, his teeth clenched together, this was his anger acting now. The man smashed backwards, his eyes now overflowing with fear.

"Sherlock!" John had shouted this time. Sherlock looked at him then back at his hostage. He quickly dropped his hands and took several steps backwards. His mouth open, heavy breaths escaping as his adrenaline pumped through him. His eyes met John's disbelieving ones. He himself was at a loss, he had had no need to be violent. Well, it wouldn't have sped up the process in this case and he didn't want John to think any worse of him.

The man had slumped against the wall, lungs heaving to catch air, eyes staring at his attacker.

"Sherlock, wha-?" John started to whisper at Sherlock but was interrupted by the buzzing of Sherlock's phone. Sherlock broke his gaze with John as he grappled for his phone.

"Sherlock Holmes." The man suddenly got up and ran, both men moved to go after him but he was running faster than when he was being chased and skittered round the corner, disappearing from sight.

_"You brain really has been affected, my dear."_ Sherlock's mouth slowly opened and his eyes widened. _"What? You really never thought it would lead back to me?"_ The man chuckled down the phone. _"Well, you certainly fell for the oldest trick in the book. Once you were away my dear the whole thing was easy. Though I have left you a little clue, I mean if you find her, she might want to join in our little game. It is fascinating to watch you dance around her, but again you leave me slightly disappointed. Anyway Prince Charming, off you pop. You've got a damsel in distress to find. Chooww!" _

Moriarty ended the call and as soon as the beep echoed out from his phone he shoved it back in his pocket. He couldn't stop to chide himself for being so stupid, he couldn't stop to explain to a confused John, he could only run as fast as he could back to Baker Street.

His thundering steps had more urgency now, the emotion fueling him was much stronger than his anger before. Instead of his mind being blank, he raced through possibilities, outcomes, but every thought led back to her. With this he spurred on, charging faster leaving a sprinting John behind.

He crashed into Baker Street, shouting his voice choked and hoarse. The emotion was reaching every part of him now. He charged to 221A rushing through the lounge, slamming into the bedrooms. John heard him and went straight upstairs - from Sherlock's yelling he was at no loss for what they were looking for. Sherlock ran back into the kitchen but all his charged muscles froze as he entered. A lone mug of tea had hit the floor, its' handle lost and its' content flowing everywhere.

"SHERLOCK!" Despite his logic's protest the shout from John filled him once more with hope. He shot up the stairs, but was greeted only by a wide-eyed John in the doorway. His limbs stopped, but his heart continued even though he knew there was no Kate.

"There on the table." Sherlock moved passed John to see into the living from. In the centre there was a clear vase with a single yellow flower drooping over the side. Some had scrawled by the side - `_She loves me, she loves me not.`_

"They've got her haven't they?" said John, as Sherlock shook the water off the flower and ran his long fingers over the stem. He nodded. Yellow flower. Yellow flower. Yellow flowers. A bunch of yellow flowers.

_"Oh, thank you, you really shouldn't have!" she beamed . _

That day.

"Quick John. The cafe. Ring Lestrade." John had no more time to question him as he launched himself down the stairs and sailed out into the street. Luckily John Waston had been the flatmate of Sherlock Holmes for long enough now and he quickly dialed Lestrade and reeled of the name and address, whilst running there himself.

Sherlock was already shaking the locked door, heart racing and adrenaline pumping.

"Sherlock, I know, but wait for-" John's advice was lost as the detective moved back then smacked into the door with the full force of his shoulder and all his weight. Of course he had hit at a weak point. He then managed to simultaneously barge and kick his way through the wreckage into the cafe. He had no time for picking locks today.


	10. Chapter 10

**Yes I know it's been a really long time. I'm sorry - have been a rather busy bee! Well, this is basically the last chapter. I know, I know. I am planning a bit of an Epilogue, but basically... Anyway again apologies for the wait! Please Review/Comment.**

* * *

><p>John was still stunned by the wreck of the door. To be truthful it probably wasn't the shock of what Sherlock had done - John had seen him do worse, nor was it his disregard for safety - his own or anyone else's, that again was usual. Only that he could sense it was not logic driving Sherlock, it was emotion. John wasn't saying that Sherlock didn't feel emotion, he certainly understood it - you could see that every day when he tried to manipulate people. He relished the few moments when a flicker of confusion danced across his companions eyes. No, it was the detective's worst nightmare. Sentiment. How many times had he had to prompt Sherlock on that motive? John had lost count. Yet here he was staring at what that motivator had done to Sherlock. It was an act of emotion, affection, dare he even think it...love.<p>

His next rush of thought was how he should react to this situation. He had heard no gunfire, but had been left no instructions or indicators from Sherlock on what he should do. He was rigid for a moment debating whether to cover the door or charge in.

The options were quickly changed when a flashing blue car screeched round the corner. Despite himself John almost chuckled at the entrance of Lestrade. The Inspector was looking particularly ragged as he tumbled out the police car. Tumbled being the only word. It was the dusting of sugar round the Inspector's mouth that did it. Lestrade opened his arms in exasperation, the rest of his team piled out and another police car skidded to a halt. Though everyone present seemed in no rush, some in fact looked bored. How many times had they been called out needlessly before because of Sherlock?

A searing crash echoed out from the darkened cafe and pierced the ears of all bystanders. Suddenly the whole pace of the situation changed. People dived into cars to retrieve weapons, Lestrade suddenly became the fearsome boss of the whole operation - ordering people to cover the front and back of the little cafe, he and John poised beside the front. But silence echoed around for a few more agonizing moments.

* * *

><p>Sherlock had thrown the chair at the first sign of movement. Of course he hit his target. The man crumpled to the floor.<p>

He drew himself up to his full height. A formidable silhouette to the few members of the gang left. Most had run out at the sound of police cars. Not that Sherlock was listening to the efforts of the police force to stop them. He had faith in John.

He grinned at the two in the doorway, hidden to the side of the counter, who glanced to him then to their crumpled man. He advanced, the wicked grin still dancing on his lips. Only one stumbled forward and raised his fists. Sherlock's grin dropped. The man attempted the same growth as Sherlock, a premature air of confidence oozing from him. Too soon. Sherlock's emotion was back and acting with ease against his pitiful attacker.

Another man down. He raised his eyes back to the second. No mischief this time, just fire.

He scarpered.

Sherlock moved quickly through the once blocked doorway, his breath ragged and scarf ruffled. The small back room was dark only a small pool of light reached through, making everything only shadows.

Only one thing to him wasn't a shadow.

He was on his knees beside Kate almost as soon as he entered the room.

She lay unconscious, her hands tied behind her back making her awkwardly tilt towards him. Her silk pajama top, although a shimmering turquoise in the light was wrinkled and torn, the top buttons ripped away. Sherlock scanned the rest of her. No other attempt had been made. Her collection of curls fanned out behind her, only the single persistent twist clung to her face.

Sherlock lifted her upper body gently off the floor. He guided her head to his shoulder leaning her weight on him, as he tried to undo her bonds. His elegant fingers fumbled with a knot which normally would have taken him seconds, but it wasn't rope holding...

Kate murmured. At the realisation of her body being pressed to another she retracted, attempting to throw her entire weight behind the movement. But Sherlock's grasp was strong and he prevented her from falling. He released her hands and she added them to her fight.

"Kate. Stop."

Her vision cleared. Instead of hitting she clutched to his frozen face, instead of withdrawing she pressed back into his dark coat. Her head found its nest in his shoulder. Her words were muffled mumblings with a constant motif of `you` and `Sherlock`. Her body started to shake with stray tears and heavy breathing.

Sherlock allowed his body to rise and fall with hers, his arms tightly round her, his hands almost grappling with her hair. The pair of them a contrast, his dark figure against her pale shimmering one. He stared as her hand dragged across his chest and looped around his neck. He looked back to her head. Dare he kiss it?

Then, her lips brushed his neck.

It was the smallest of kisses really, but caused him to draw her even closer. He could feel her breath now on his neck, her lips barely away from his skin, unsure whether to do it again.

Suddenly a bang resounded from behind them. Both jolted apart, but managed to stay close for protection.

"Sherlock? Sherlock! Kate!"

"John." The pair breathed smiling at one another. The worry from John's face lifted as he saw the two knelt on the floor.

"Well there's a sight for sore eyes."

Kate continued to grin at him, despite her tear-stained face and as Sherlock turned round to face him, John saw the glint in his eye too.

"Oh am I interrupting something?" He grinned mischievously.

"Oh haha John Watson." Replied Kate, quickly wiping the tears from her cheeks.

John smiled, "Congratulations, you are now one of the only two people who can make jokes at crime scenes. Which is surprising - especially as your the victim."

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with me!" Kate rose to join John and they started to leave.

"Seriously you are OK though?"

"Oh John I'm fine."

"Well, I think someone has called an ambulance anyway."

"Yay, more doctors."

"Hey! There is nothing wrong with doctors...

Their chatter was lost on Sherlock. The skinny light, now Kate had gone, was attracted to the fluttering of a red ribbon. A ribbon used to bound. A ribbon as red as the reddest red rose.

Sherlock clutched it, running it over his fingers. He rose and left.

The reddest ribbon ruffling in his pocket.


	11. Epilogue

Kate brushed her high-waisted skirt down. Again. She stared intently at her reflection. She pulled out her hair from her pony tail. Then retied it again. She bit her lip. Her eyes got lost in the mirror resting above the polished mantelpiece of 221B. She saw all the signs of bachelor life. Mugs everywhere, newspapers piled up and just a general mess. It made her smile that she was stood in a living room belonging to two men who judging by the view were perfectly ordinary. She herself blended in as visitor waiting to go out, perhaps a date, a girlfriend, a relative.

Then she saw his dark shape on the sofa.

They were anything but ordinary - especially in the life they lead, it could never be an ordinary visit. She was waiting here to go to court not a date and she doubted she would ever stand before the mirror as something as trivial as a girlfriend.

"It makes no difference you know."

She turned regaining her composure, "What doesn't?"

"The skirt. The hair is better tied back, for this instance."

"And what other instances would you be thinking of?" She grinned mischievously, curling her toes only clad in the thin material of tights into the rug. She couldn't bare to be serious, she could not afford to break down again.

She was not granted a response, only another stare from his frozen eyes.

"C'mon then young lady." John came back from the kitchen, he straightened his tie and sorted out his jacket. He was the only one who wanted to see the case through to the end. Plus Kate doubted she would be able to give any evidence with Sherlock's eyes staring down at her. Lestrade and his team had caught the gang - though of course it would never lead back to the very top.

She glanced one more time in the mirror.

Mrs. Hudson rushed in. "Are you sure you won't be wanting the sandwiches?"

Kate laughed, "Auntie, it's a court case not a bloody picnic!" John sniggered.

"Oh, I don't know how you can laugh in your situation."

"Well, it's better-"

"Than crying." Sherlock finished her sentence for her. She hummed a laugh through tight lips and he returned it with a twitch from his mouth. Mrs. Hudson oblivious continued fretting, but John got caught in the moment the two individuals seemed unaware they were having. Feeling an intruder he hurried Kate along again.

"Right, yes." She moved backwards to retrieve her bag from the leather chair, hands bumbling. She shrugged it over her shoulder along with a new black coat, glanced once more in the mirror and walked to the door.

"Shoes."

"Oh God!" In an instant her cool compsure was gone. John rolled his eyes, "I will be two minutes!"

Sherlock rose and picked up a box on the side, he held it out to her.

"Is this really the time?" sighed John. Sherlock took Kate's bag and place the box in her hands, his eyes never leaving hers. She held it in her hands and delicately removed the lid tucking it underneath. With one hand she brushed aside the tissue paper.

And then she laughed.

Not a small giggle or a hum as she had been providing them with over the past month, but a proper face-crinkling, echoing laugh.

"What? What?"

Then Sherlock joined in with his deep throaty chuckle. Kate lifted a pantent red shoe from the box and shrugged her shoulders, still laughing.

"I told him he owed me a new pair of shoes." She met his a eyes again. Mrs Hudson took the shoe, "Well put them on then!" She took the box from Kate and handed her each shoe as she slipped them on.

"A perfect fit."

"Of course." Kate clicked her heels then locked eyes again and grinned.

"Not that there suitable for court." That had slipped everyone's mind.

"I'll go find you a black court shoe." And with that Mrs Hudson was gone.

"I'll go get a bloody cab." And John was gone too.

Kate slipped off the shoes and started to wrap them back up carefully in the tissue paper. Taking her time, deliberating over each fold. "You didn't have to that you know." She said as she worked. She received no reply, though she could feel his eyes on her. She slowly picked up her things.

"Well, thank you." He nodded his acceptance. She left 221B charging down the stairs to deposit the shoes and pick up another pair. Sherlock heard her and Mrs Hudson talking in the hallway and a clanging as she slipped the new pair on her feet. He heard Mrs Hudson's door click after a brief hug goodbye. He moved back to his chair and closed his eyes.

She knew he would hear her footsteps as she walked back into the room. She knew he would hear her breathing.

Kate lent over Sherlock sat in his chair, with his eyes closed, with his brain ticking and kissed his cheek. Then ran to her cab.

Sherlock clicked his eyes open, but she was gone. Still, he couldn't help but smirk.

* * *

><p><strong>So there you are! The promised Epilogue! I am sorry it took me so long to put up - it has for some reason been slow going and I have been so busy! Well, that is the end of my first story! Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews and favourites, even sticking with it till the end! I have loved writing this so I plan to write a couple more stories with these same characters, so if you enjoyed please keep your eyes peeled! As always please review! :)<strong>


End file.
